


Positive Donations

by CruelBeauty



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blood Donation, First Dates, M/M, Nurse!Aziraphale, Past Abuse, Past Drug Addiction, Science, Scientist!Crowley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2021-01-31 09:51:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21444283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CruelBeauty/pseuds/CruelBeauty
Summary: Crowley wasn’t proud of his past. He wasn’t necessarily ashamed either. He grew up poor, abused, and gay. Falling into drugs was just the natural next step.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 101





	Positive Donations

Crowley wasn’t proud of his past. He wasn’t necessarily ashamed either. He grew up poor, abused, and gay. Falling into drugs was just the natural next step. 

His first and only boyfriend Lucifer led him into it slowly. The relationship went from saving him to destroying him. It was a place of love and acceptance that became distorted and empty and abusive.

Crowley, young, and in love didn’t recognize it for what it was, or did but was too afraid to leave, and stayed with Lucifer for 4 years.

By the time he turned 18, he had spent 4 years with his older boyfriend Lucifer, and a life without him didn’t seem real. He was willing to take the risk though.

Leaving him was one of the single hardest things he had ever done. Leaving drugs, WAS the hardest.

Lucifer had introduced him to drugs. At the time, stuck in the endless loop of abuse and loneliness, drugs had seemed a welcome reprieve. 

By the time Crowley had been accepted to college, fresh out of his abusive home, fresh out of his abusive relationship, and still on heroin. He knew it was all going to fall apart. He had tried to quit when he first started college, it didn’t last long.

His typically good grades dropped, his professors started staring at him a little too long in lecture, his guidance counsellor sent more and more emails. 

The only person he really talked to at school was his favorite professor David. He was a published astronomer who was working on cutting edge research. Crowley would show up at his professor’s weird officer hours, down from a recent high and ask him to explain concepts Crowely read about in his free time or saw on some show he watched.

Crowley would stay late after class ended or just show up when he knew the professor had office hours no one but him used.

The two formed an odd friendship of sorts.

One day, David poured him a cup of coffee and offered him an internship opportunity to help him with a study he was working on. 

The only requirement his professor gave him was that he got clean.

Crowley hadn’t asked how his professor knew he was on drugs. He hadn’t asked why his professor thought he deserved this opportunity. Or how he knew he wasn’t going to ruin his multi-million dollar experiment. He just nodded his head before letting his professor wrap him into a hug. It was the first time anyone had touched him purposefully in over a year.

Several months, a detox visit, weekly visits with a free school therapist, and a genuine desire to not let down his favorite professor later and Anthony J Crowley was mostly clean (there had been a relapse a few weeks in but he had been clean since).

By Crowley’s fourth year his grades had significantly improved, though to his annoyance his GPA didn’t recover, he had failed three classes, and his graduation time was extended by two years, but he felt like his life might actually be okay. 

He hadn’t dated since Lucifer, but he thought that might be for the best. Despite Lucifer’s terrible influence, Crowley deep down maybe missed him a bit. That was a dangerous thing.

Crowley had decided to focus on himself, he hadn’t touched a drug in a few years, he almost never even drank. He helped David with his experiment which was almost completely finished. Crowley even made one friend, Beelzebub. It was time for Crowley to figure out who in the hell he was.

At the age of 24, Anthony J Crowley graduated with a Bachelor of Science with a 2.8 GPA, a 3 year sober certificate, and with a firm and tearful huge from David who gave him the first print bound edition of the experiment they worked on together with a heartfelt note on the inside Crowley had memorized from reading so often.

At 25, Crowley got his first “real” job in his field which was a museum tour guide for a children’s science exhibit (listen-jobs are hard to find). And though he wouldn’t admit it he loved children and watching their amazed faces as he explained basic science was pretty great.

At 27, he had finally gotten a job he wanted more, with thank someone, better pay. Those loans won’t pay themselves off. He got a job not completely unlike his job before but a bit more in his field. He works at a science museum with a whole floor dedicated to astronomy. He creates and designs exhibits, while also working on independent research funded by the museum. It’s a pretty good deal. It doesn’t have the best pay imaginable. But he loves what he does so that’s enough for him.

At 30, Crowley considered he maybe needed to get some interests other than work and other things thinly veiled as more work. 

He really hadn’t expanded his friend group much since college. Beelzebub became a lawyer and was constantly busy, not to mention they had little in common anymore. Crowley just mostly cringed the entire time they talked anymore as Beelzebub discussed terrible people their firm helped get off of sentences. 

The only other people he really talks to is Anathema, a girl a bit younger than him that runs the museum gift shop, and Shadwell, a man a few years older than him that is the head janitor who frequently runs into Crowley early in the morning or late at night.

Crowley strolled into the gift shop just before closing. “Sorry, but we are closed.” Anathema called out from the back.

“Technically,” Crowley said with a whine to his voice. “you don’t close for 5 more minutes and you aren’t allowed to turn away customers. But, fortunately for you it’s just me.” Crowley said and headed straight to the coffee machine.

She came out carrying a box and set it on the counter. “You know with how much coffee you drink you should just buy a coffee machine.”

“But then I would have to pay for it.”

“Technically,” She said mocking him. “You are supposed to pay for that coffee everyday I just don’t make you.”

Crowley rolled his eyes and took a sip of his coffee. “Oh aren’t you feisty today. Trouble with salamander?” 

Anathema glared but couldn’t hide her small smile. “His name is Newt! I have told you a thousand times. And no- things are… good. Just weird.”

“In what way?” He asked and took to leaning against the coffee machine.

“I just- I have never been with anyone this long. I guess I am just waiting for the bad part to come. And it just isn’t.”

“Trust me, I get what you mean.” He said with a small laugh.

He could tell by the look on her face she was going to ask for more information so he decided to take his leave. “Listen- if it’s good, it’s good. Don’t sabotage yourself.” 

She gave him a small smile. “Also, before you leave don’t forget there is a blood drive tomorrow.”

“Ah okay.” Crowley said a bit confused, unsure why he was meant to know this.

“Are you going?” 

“Uh- well I wasn’t planning on it.” He said nervously.

“Can you please go with me? I really want to but I am nervous. You don’t have to donate.”

Crowley held back the groan that wanted to escape. “Fine. Don’t say I never did anything for you.” He said pointing a finger at her before taking his leave and wondering what exactly he just got himself into.

. . .

The next day Crowley found himself somewhere he did not think he would be. Sitting next to Anathema and filling out a blood donation form. This was a nightmare but a nightmare he couldn’t really just get himself out of. He hadn’t told Anathema he was an ex drug addict. And they had handed him a form so quickly and she was so excited to not be doing it alone. Hopefully they would take her away first so she would do it before he was rejected.

So, he swallowed his pride and filled out the small form. He knew as soon as they interviewed him they would reject him, but at least he wouldn’t have to do it in front of Anathema. He hated to waste these good people’s time but he also wasn’t a fan of the idea that people at work would know he used to be a drug addict. He doesn’t necessarily think Anathema would tell anyone but you can never be too safe.

Plenty of people were sat near where he got a form and there are always nosey coworkers listening. And Ligur down the hall is jealous of his corner office. Better not to give him any information that could ruin him. All that would have to happen is one person hear him telling the nurse he was an ex addict and he would be out of a job.

Soon Anathema was taken away and led to a small little covered cubicle. Crowley was taken shortly after and sat at a chair surrounded by a cardboard wall. He was told someone would be with him shortly and to fill out the online form until then.

Once he was done he flipped the little sign that said he was ready and waited. Not very long after he heard someone approach and turned to look and almost gasped. 

“Hello Mr Crowley, my name is Aziraphale. I just need to ask you a few questions before we determine if you are eligible.”

“Uh okay.” He said and nearly smacked himself. Of course he was going to have to out his ex drug status to the world’s most attractive man.

“Any sexual contact with a man in the past 12 months?” He asked with a warm smile, pen hovering over the paper.

Crowley felt his brain struggling to think. The man was adorable. He had the curliest fluffy white hair and he wore a small pink triangle pin and rainbow pin. Of course his nurse was ungodly attractive AND gay and he was tragically going to lose any chance he had as soon as he revealed why he couldn’t donate. 

“I thought gay men couldn’t donate.” He said instead of answering his question and pointed vaguely at his small triangle pin.

Aziraphale looked down and blushed. “Ah yes, technically we can’t accept blood with men who have had sexual contact with another man in 12 months, that doesn’t mean I agree with it though.”

“Ah. Makes sense. And um no- not in 12 months. I mean. I’m gay though. Does that automatically disqualify me?”

Aziraphale gave a warm smile. “No, sir. As long as you don’t have AIDS or HIV positive and it has been longer than 12 months that doesn’t disqualify you so you can still donate blood.”

Crowley had felt the effects of his drug addiction for many years in many ways. This was one of the more disappointing aspects. This cute, probably gay, and not married man if his empty ring finger was any indicator, was going to have to hear about his drug addiction and that warm smile would fade. “I still can’t donate blood.” Crowley blurted out.

Aziraphale sat up a bit straighter his warm smile faltering just a little. “And why is that? It’s okay to be nerv-”

“I’m a drug addict. Well- fuck. No, I’ve been clean for over 10 years. But I ah, used to do heroin. I’m not allowed to donate.” Crowley said, choking up on the last sentence. He hated he could feel tears forming. He refused to let them fall though. He normally wasn’t so emotional over the whole thing, he just hadn’t said the words out loud in so long.

Aziraphale frowned a little before giving a small smile and taking Crowley’s hand in his. “Well that is certainly a great accomplishment.” He said so proudly as though he had known Crowley his whole life.

Crowley sniffled a little and squeezed his hand quickly. “Ah thank you. Sorry, I normally don’t cry on random nurses I’m sorry.”

Aziraphale gave a warm laugh. “Quite alright, dear boy. Unfortunately, you know I can’t take your blood. Even if I don’t agree with the practice. Has your blood been tested since then?” 

Crowley nodded and pushed his hair back with his free hand. “Yes, shortly after I became sober I got everything checked and I don’t have anything.” 

“Oh good. I want to make sure you are safe. Despite that, I am still not allowed to. As much as I hate it.”

Crowley gives a small smile. “I figured as much. It’s okay. I just agreed to come with a friend as support and suddenly they wanted me to donate and I didn’t want to go around announcing my ex drug addict status. Not with so many of my coworkers around.”

“I completely understand. Just tell them your red blood cell count was too low so we couldn’t take it.” Aziraphale says softly.

“Well thank you uh for being so great about this. I really am sorry for wasting your time.”

“Oh please. Not a waste at all, I completely understand. Not to mention it is very kind of you to come to support your friend.”

“Thank you, Aziraphale. I appreciate it.”Crowley stood and shook his hand.

“Of course, Mr Crowley. Have a good rest of your day.” Aziraphale said softly.

Crowley left and headed back to the waiting room and waited for Anathema who came over a few minutes later with a bandage wrapped around her arm. “Crowley! Did you not donate?”

“Uh, I didn’t have a high enough red blood cell count.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I am always telling you that you need to eat more.”

Crowley rolled his eyes. “How did it go?”

“It was surprisingly not scary.” She said happily and grabbed a cookie to take with her as they walked back to the science section of the museum. 

He walked her back to the giftshop and once he made sure she was not feeling lightheaded or anything headed back to his office. He needed to approve some final numbers for the next shipment of supplies he needs. 

Several hours later, and Crowley is tired. He had to call four different people who messed up his order. He was ready for his coffee. It was a bit earlier than normal but he needed it. Desperate times and all that.

He put his blazer back on from where he had draped it over his chair and walked to the giftshop. Glad to see it looked empty. He grabbed a cup and started filling it up when he heard movement. “Still sore from earlier? Need me to grab any boxes for you?” Crowley called out.

Crowley turned and nearly spilled his cup of coffee everywhere. “Uh- you’re not Anathema.” He said brilliantly.

Aziraphale gave a small laugh and wringed his hands. “I am afraid not.”

“Sorry,” Crowley said nervously. “I am used to only Anathema, my friend, being in here when I come to get my coffee. How are you, Aziraphale? Busy day taking blood? Helping people?”

Aziraphale gave a small smile. He nudged gently past Crowley and began getting a coffee. “Ah yes. Very much so. We got lots of donations though which was good.” 

“That’s good. So um, is this your full time job?” Crowley asked then cringed. Some conversationalist he is. This is why he has almost no friends.

“No, actually. I only volunteer for the Red Cross when I can. I got a nursing degree but decided it wasn’t for me. So I actually am taking some online classes right now and work at home.” 

Crowley smiled genuinely intrigued. “What are you going to school now then for?”

“To become a librarian. I love books. I am not sure why I didn’t think of it earlier. I guess I was just destined to be in school for a very long time. Oh well. Better to do it late than never.” He says with a smile and takes a small sip of the coffee. 

“I understand. I was in college for 6 years.”

“Oh, what degree?”

“I got a bachelors of science. I work in the astronomy department here. I design the exhibits and perform research.”

“That’s terribly exciting. So-”

“Sorry! I’m back!” Anathema called out and Crowley despised her for just a second.

“Oh hello. Didn’t know there was a customer here. So sorry about that.” She said with her fake customer service smile.

Aziraphale just smiled. “It’s alright. No problem at all.”

“Just the coffee for you?” She asked and begun ringing him out. “That’ll be 1.75.”

Crowley stepped forward and handed her two dollars. “It’s on me.”

Anathema raised her eyebrows but took the two bills. 

“Oh, thank you.” Aziraphale said softly and began walking out of the store stopping just outside with Crowley his hands gently wrapped around his coffee cup. “Um this is terribly unprofessional but is there any chance you might want to uh- get coffee with me?”

Crowley felt his cheeks get red but nodded. “Yeah that’d uh be great.” He fished around for a moment before pulling out a business card. “The number at the bottom is my office phone. I am at my office nearly always so just call that number.”

Aziraphale took the card carefully as though he would break it. “I will. I’ll talk to you soon.”

“I look forward to it.” 

. . .

When Crowley’s phone rang a couple days later he huffed out an annoyed sound and picked it up grumpily. He was certain it was the head of his department ready to tell him that one of his shipments was late again. When it was instead a soft spoken and nervous Aziraphale, Crowley nearly melted into his seat.

They agreed that Crowley would pick him up and Aziraphale would pick the restaurant.

By the time several days later Crowley was meant to leave work to pick up Aziraphale he was shaking in his snakeskin boots. 

“I don’t think you need more coffee.” Anathema said, eyeing him warily.

“Yes, I do.” Crowley said filling up his cup.

“You are literally shaking. I think that means you have had enough coffee. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Totally. Never been better.” He said taking a big drink. “This is only my first cup. Just maybe a bit nervous.”

“Why?” She asked immediately intrigued.

“Ihaveadate.” He grumbled into his cup.

“What?”

“I said I have a date!”

Anathema’s lips curled up into a smile. “Really? The infamous Alone Forever Anthony Crowley has a date?”

“Don’t tease.” He sneered.

“Awe come on. I’m not. I’m just excited. I’ve never heard of you having a date.”

“Well this is the first one, in… awhile.”

“Well tell me about them.” She asked with a wide smile propping herself onto the counter.

“Mmmm.” He said considering. “Maybe tomorrow, no time. I need to go pick him up.”

Anathema groaned. “Fine! But I want details tomorrow.” She called out as he left the small store.

He hurried to his car and checked the address quickly before driving to the small bookshop the GPS said was the location. He parked outside and nervously walked in, fixing his hair the whole time. “Ziraphale?”

He heard a few scuffling sounds before Aziraphale came around the corner dressed in what only can be described as an odd attempt at modern Victorian attire. “Hello, I hope you didn’t have any trouble finding the place.”

“Not at all.” Crowley reassured. “You look very nice.” He said trying to not oogle at him too much and make him uncomfortable. He looked very much like a well loved old sofa and boy did he want to find himself a nice spot and settle into it indeed.

“You look very handsome as well. Very sharp. I am afraid I must look quite old compared to you. Perhaps I should go change.” Aziraphale said and made a move to leave.”

“No! I like it. Very classic. You look very handsome.” Crowley said, his cheeks burning. He couldn’t remember the last time he was this flustered talking to someone.

“Oh. Alright. Thank you.” He said with a soft smile and blush.

“Now where are we going?” Crowley asked, stuffing his hands in his pockets.’

“I know this lovely little restaurant not that far from here I thought we might go to if you are amenable.” 

“Quite.” Crowley replied simply and held the door for Aziraphale out of the shop and while he locked the door opened the Bentley’s door for him and held it open.

Once Azirapahle was firmly seated Crowley buckled himself in and started off down the street, Aziraphale giving him directions until they were in front of a small restaurant that Crowley parked in front of.

Crowley trailed behind Aziraphale as they were led to their table. Crowley sat across from Aziraphale at the small round table, a small candle flickering on the table. 

The waiter took their orders and left, Crowley nervously fiddling with the silverware as Aziraphale adjusted his waistcoat. 

“I am sorry, honestly, I’m terribly nervous.” Aziraphale admitted.

Crowley gave him a soft smile. “Me too. I haven’t been… out. In a long time.”

“I must admit, me either. Well actually I have never been out.”

Crowley sat forward a bit. “You mean, like a date? You’ve never been on a date?” 

Aziraphale winced. “Um yes.”

“Wow.” Crowley said surprised. “I mean I’m honored but surprised. You seem so put together and well- attractive.” 

Aziraphale laughed at that. “Well thank you, dear boy. I guess I just never had much of a desire or ability. I grew up in a pretty strict religious household and I don’t like going out much. It can be difficult meeting people.” 

“That makes sense. I haven’t been on a date in many years.”

“And why is that if you don’t mind me asking?” 

Crowley sighed and took a drink of water. “I mean I am sure you could guess after our little uh- blood questionnaire extravaganza. I got into a bad relationship and into drugs. Took me a long time to recover and get to a place that I thought was good enough to consider dating. Then I just haven’t met anyone since then.” 

“Well I hope this will be a good date for you.” Aziraphale said a bit nervously.

“I think we’ll do fine.” Crowley said and oddly found himself believing it.

After the heavier parts of their lives were discussed they found they had a lot to talk about. They both loved records (though very different music on those records) and reading. Crowley of course had to do a lot more academic type reading than Aziraphale usually. Aziraphale liked to read a lot of classic novels, one of which Crowley said he would buy and try to find the time to read. 

Throughout the date both Crowley and Aziraphale were surprised by how well their conversation worked. Despite being very different people they fit together. Crowley would talk about science and his field, then Aziraphale would wax poetic about old literature and the study of it. Both men seemed to be genuinely interested in the others’ area of study and had a common interest in history.

By the time the bill came and Crowley paid for it before Aziraphale could object, both men were sad it was coming to an end. They talked quietly on the drive back, the evening sun casting a warm glow on them.

Crowley parked outside of the bookshop and got out, opening Aziraphale’s door for him. They walked to the front of the shop, Crowley standing next to him as he unlocked the door. “Uh well I had a good time tonight.” Crowley said stuffing his hands into his pockets.

Aziraphale unlocked the door but didn’t open it. “Me too.” He said and paused. “If you wouldn’t object I would like to see you again soon.” He said softly, a light blush on his face.

“I would like that.” Crowley responded with a small smile. “I know this is your first date so I don’t want to push but could I kiss you?” Crowley responded and tried to ignore the heat he could feel in his cheeks. He couldn’t remember the last time he was this nervous with someone.

Aziraphale gave a small nervous nod. Crowley stepped forward and raised a hand to gently cup his cheek. Giving Aziraphale a few seconds in case he changed his mind and leaned forward and carefully as possible pressed his lips softly against Aziraphale’s.

He pulled back and gave Aziraphale a smile who lazily blinked his eyes open after a few seconds. 

“Goodnight, angel.”

Aziraphale seemed to be in a daze and reached for the door handle missing it the first time. “Goodnight, Crowley. Call me?” He said quietly.

“Of course. Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow.” Aziraphale confirmed. 

Crowley gave Aziraphale a last look before heading to his Bentley, ignoring the urge to look to see if Aziraphale was watching him. Once he was in the privacy of the Bentley he let out a long breath and let a large smile overtake his face. 

For some reason he had the strangest and strongest feeling things were going to work out with Aziraphale and they were meant to meet.

**Author's Note:**

> This is what I was working on instead of my wip. Whoops.
> 
> Anyway, I had a hankering for some old(ish) Aziraphale and Crowley finding each other. I like the idea of Crowley and Aziraphale both having bad pasts but in different ways (as is common with queer people) and how they would meet regardless later in life.
> 
> A lot of queer people miss out on dating or having healthy relationships for many years and I wanted to write an optimistic story that features what could happen after you aren't a teen anymore and you finally have the chance to explore yourself and figure out who you are and find real love.


End file.
